The Love of Her
by R8c4a3l
Summary: Something happens between Harry and Hermione in the Forbidden Forest. Something they didn't expect. It could tear them apart. Or bring them together.
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER! I OWN NOTHING! DISCLAIMER!**

**Authors note - Starts at the end of third year.  
**

"What happened in the Forbidden Forest Harry?" Ron asked whilst staring at the retreating figure of Hermione Granger. She'd barely said two words to either of them since Sirius had escaped, on Buckbeak, and that had been two nights ago. Anything she had said only caused the atmosphere to tense up.

"Nothing" Harry answered rather shortly, a hard expression masking his face. His emerald eyes glinting ferociously behind his glasses. Hermione's thick brown curls blowing freely in the warm July breeze. Something had happened in the Forest. But he'd find a way to fix it. He'd get her back. "Come on, we'll be late for the feast"

Ron quickly forgot the subject, thinking of his stomach rather than anything else. They raced to the Great Hall, anticipating the delicious delicacies they would be eating. The hall was already filled with students milling around seats and chatting with friends. This would be the last chance most of them would see all their friends together, at least until next year.

"Come on, I see Dean and Seamus" Ron nudged Harry and lead them over to the middle of the Gryffindor table where there fellow housemates sat. They plonked themselves alongside Neville, with Seamus and Dean sitting opposite.

"Hey" Harry said rather gloomily, spying Hermione sitting further up the table with Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown. He thought she didn't even like them. Why was she being so difficult?

"What you think Harry?" he was pulled out from his musings and stared confused up at Dean. "Harry?"

"Sorry what was the question mate?"

"Where's your head at? I asked will you be going to the Quidditch World Cup in the summer?" he repeated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Dunno, be difficult to get there..." he trailed off. His chances of getting tickets were slim, his chances of find the place were even worse and the likely hood that he'd even be allowed to go were so slim he could cry. Unless of course he blackmailed his uncle with threats of his 'murderous' Godfather visiting.

"My dad's hoping to score some tickets, you could come with us" Ron beamed, clapping Harry on the back. "Won't be the same if your not there".

"So it's settled mate, Dean can come with my family and you can go with Ron's. We'll meet up" Seamus rubbed his hands together conspiratorially.

"How about you Nev?" Harry asked the quiet boy to his left. "You up for it?" Neville nodded his head enthusiastically.

"Yeah Harry, love to" his ears poked out a little further from his head, because of the face splitting smile plastered across his face.

"M-op-a-mee-homjse" Ron mumbled through a mouth full of turkey leg. Harry hit him upside the head for spitting turkey on his arm.

"Ron! Really!" he gestured to the gunk around Ron's mouth.

Weasley swallowed quickly, wiped his chin with his sleeve and said "What! I'm beautiful!" That set everyone off and even caused Dean to snort into his Pumpkin Juice.

"Sure thing Ronnette" Harry smirked giving his best mate a fake flirty wink and a nudge with his elbow.

"Shut it Golden Boy" he shoved Harry back, jostling him into a still laughing Neville. "I said, meet up at my house Neville. You can travel with us." Ron wasn't even looking at Neville, too busy shoveling mash potato onto his plate.

"Hey, thanks Ron." Neville agreed to the plan whole heartily. It was going to be great. The Gryffindor boys had never spent a real lads day out before and the Quidditch World Cup was sure to be bloody amazing.

"Why's Hermione not here?" Seamus finally asked the question that had been bugging him all through the main meal. Dessert had finally landed on the table and he had spotted the brown haired witch sitting with Parvati and Lavender. Chatting. It was weird.

Ron simply shrugged and said "She's being Hermione." Harry didn't say a word he just buried his face into his ice cream and dare not look up in case his eyes betrayed him and they strayed. He couldn't look at her, not again. So much for the brave Harry Potter. He'd fought Voldemort, killed a Basilisk, taken on a giant spider and defeated hundreds of Dementors not days ago! He could look. He could look at her. They'd been friends for years for Merlin sake! He was Harry Bloody Potter!

He looked. He wished he hadn't. Hermione sat serenely in between Parvati and Lavender, she was clearly enjoying herself. Every few seconds Lavender would whisper something in her ear and Hermione would giggle. GIGGLE! Harry had never once seen that happen. He'd never even seen her speaking to those girls before tonight. They couldn't be friends. But then again, they did share a dormitory...how could he expect her just to ignore them? She didn't once look his way.

He didn't feel like eating his ice cream anymore. "Harry" Ron whispered conspiratorially, looking down at his wand which was pointing suspiciously at Seamus's goblet. Harry smirked leaning closer into Ron as to hide the wand secretly hidden just behind a plate on the table. They waited for the opportune moment just as Seamus was lifting the goblet to his face for another drink. A burst of light and a shriek later. Seamus sat, almost befuddled, covered in smoke with his hair standing on end. Harry and Ron fell about laughing. Dean had caught some of the backlash of the spell and the side of his face was completely covered with pumpkin juice and smoke.

"Seamus Finnigan!" McGongall shouted strictly, appearing out of no where next to the soot covered boy. He jumped again as another sodden jolt of magic shot through him. The spell still bursting around his body. "Control yourself!" Harry and Ron couldn't help it the laughter escaping in loud bellows. "Potter! Weasley! Care to explain?" she said gesturing sharply to the still sparking boy in front of them.

"Don't know Professor" Ron gasped.

"Its shocking isn't it " Harry said, almost setting them off again. As it was the end of the year she couldn't really do anything to them. So pierced them with a frightful gaze and stalked off towards the teachers table. Harry could have sworn she'd muttered "fathers son" but he couldn't be sure. Either way it made him surprisingly proud.

"OUCH!" Ron yelped having just been kicked hard in the shin. Harry quickly turned to Seamus who glared fierily at his best mate and then turned that same fire on him. Time to make a break for it. He leapt up from his seat and speedily swept up the isle.

"Not so fast Golden Boy!" Seamus Finnigan said sizzling after him.


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER! I OWN NOTHING! DISCLAIMER!**

There was a flash of green light, a rushingh sound, and Frank Bryce crumpled. He was dead before he hit the floor. Two hundred miles away in a quiet terraced house, a boy called Harry Potter woke with a start.

Head throbbing and heart pouding he tried to catch his breath. A stampede galloping through his chest. A cold sweat layered his body like a second skin. It had all been too real, too vivd. The images too crisp to be a dream. The scar on his forehead burned with the white hot intensity of a blow torch. He sat up, one hand still firmy pressed against his scar, trying desperatly at the pain.

Harry tried to recall the dream, it had seemed so clear...he concentrated hard, frowning trying to remember. The dim picture of a darkened room came to him...there had been a giant serpent...wormtail...and a cold high voice...the voice of Lord Voldemort. Harry felt as though he had been suddenly submerged in a vat of ice cold water. Chilling him to the bone. 'It was just a dream' he kept telling himself. 'Just a dream' although he couldnt help the niggling feeling that it was more than that. An omen of something sinister waiting in the wings.

Harry released his face frim his hands, took a deep soothing breath and opened his startling green eyes. After that dream he half expected to see something unusual at the foot of his bed. But just his wooden trunk lay half opened hapazardly beside his broomstick, black robes and assorted spell books. Nothing out of the ordinary (at least to him). On the floor beside his bed a book lay open. Pictures in the book were zooming in and out of sight on broomsticks. He swung his legs onto the floor and kicked the book shut, crossed his room to the window and drew back the curtains. Surveying the street below.

Privet Drive was deserted. Not unusual for the time of night. But Harry felt the darkness like a livewire. The world standing on the tip of a knifes edge, still, there wasn't a living creature in sight, not even a cat. He went restlessly back to bed and sat down, running a hand through his hair before tracing the outline of his lightning bolt scar. It wasn't the pain that bothered Harry, he was made of stronger stuff then that. No, it was the pains meaning. The last time it had hurt was because Voldemort was near...it was impossible 'just a dream' he shook himself wishing, wishing he had someone to confide in.

Ron would just say to tell Dumbledore, but what if it was nothing? Bothering the Headmaster about a twinge in his scar seemed ludicrous. _She _would know what to do. _She _always knew. His mind wandered back to that night. In the safety of his bedroom he saw no harm...

"Run Harry! Move!" Hermione screamed pushing Harry with all her might. Almost knocking him to the floor. Professor Lupin was running at them teeth bared, muzzle frothing and blood lust clear as day in his anamlistic eyes. They ran. The sprinted. Their feet barely touching the ground. Escaping into the forest, into the great black. The heavy pads of the werewolf thumping behind them with great booms; fast on there trails. Fear ripped through Harry's body, it raked down his heart like claws.

Hermione! She ran ahead of him a blur of curls weaving between the trees. She flicked her head around, catching his eyes for a brief moment before they widened, terror ecompassing her beautiful face. "HARRY!" The shrill scream tore into the night as he tumbled to the floor. Sharp knives dug into his back. He face planted the dirt, hands splayed out uselessly as the great weight on his back crushed his chest. A crunching and snapping noise emenating from his ribs. He couldn't hold in his cry pain.

Suddenly the knife like claws ripped from his back, the weight gone. He tried to push himself up, but lacked the will power to push through the agony. "Harry come on!" Hermione was by his side. She was alright, a wave of relief flooding his body as he saw the tears freely streaking down her cheeks. "Get up Harry, Lupin won't be down for long..."

Harry turned away from the memory. She had saved him. She had protectred him. And now she wouldn't even look his way. Yes, she would know what to do, but the events in the forest had changed things. They were no longer friends they were something else. What he really wanted, thinking of it made him feel almost ashamed, was a parent. Someone who wouldn't judge him, someone who cared about him, who had experience with dark magic. The solution hit him like a tonne of bricks. Sirius! Harry leapt up from the bed, hurried across the room and sat down at his desk.

He pulled put some parchment grabbed a quill and began to write. _Dear Sirius _, he paused, unsure how to continue. He almost had a home with Sirius, for a brief moment he'd had a future free of the Dursleys. Harry would gladly destroy Wormtail for what he had done. The little rat had betrayed his parents, sent Sirius to Azkaban and he'd ruined anything he might have with Hermione. Wormtail would pay for what he did in the forest. Harry had sent Sirius a couple of letters over the summer all delivered by huge brightly coloured birds. Harry could imagine the prankster smile painted across Sirius's face whenever one of the birds came flying towareds his window.

Sirius had been entertaining Harry with tails of the Marauders adventures. He had never known anything about his parents at school before. It was amazing to finally feel so close to them. To share in their laughter, their arguments and their love. It had made Harry happy to think of Sirius enjoying his freedom on some far off tropical island. Harry picked up in the quill again, he needed his god fathers advice.

_Dear Sirius,_

_Thanks for your last letter, these bloody birds are getting bigger and bigger. Aunt Petunia almost had a heart attack. Things are the same here, the Dursleys are leaving me alone. Mainly because they think you'll hex them if I ask you too. But, um, something wierd happend last night. I has this dream. It was really vivid...  
_

__Once Harry had finished re-counting the parts of the dream he remembered and mentioning his scar hurting. He read and re-read it twice and then signed it _Your Godson, Harry. _He thought it looked okay. Quickly attaching the letter to hedwigs leg and he sent her on her way. He watched her dreamily as she flew out of sight. The sunrise began to gleam over the horizon. Harry couldn't help but think longingly of Hermione, would she ever forgive him for what he had to do?


	3. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER! I OWN NOTHING! DISCLAIMER!**

By the time Harry had arrived in the Kitchen that morning all three Dursleys were already seated around the table. Petunia having just placed breakfast on the table. Uncle Vernon laid aside his paper with a deep sniff of disappointment and looked down at the grapefruit quarter placed in front of him. The household had been forced to eat healthily since Dudley had received his end of year report. A diet sheet had been sent by Dudley's school nurse and the regime had began.

Although, Harry certainly wasn't following it. He had sent out a cry for help from his friends. A care package had been sent by Ron and Neville and even Seamus and Dean had given him a few goodies. But it had been his Godfather who had saved the day, by giving him regular deliveries of cooked meats and delicious foods. Harry had grown over three inches and put on some well deserved weight, since the start of summer. Harry looked extremely healthy for a boy who used to live under the stairs. So he happily dug into his grapefruit quarter, knowing he had a proper breakfast waiting for him upstairs.

Uncle Vernon gave a great sight which ruffled his large bushy mustache, and picked up his spoon. The doorbell rang and Uncle Vernon heaved himself up out of the chair. Quick as a flash Dudley stole the rest of Uncle Vernon's grapefruit. Harry heard talking at the door, someone laughed and then the front door closed. After about a minute he was back. He looked livid, "YOU" he barked at Harry. "In the living room, now!" Harry followed, confused as to what he could have possibly done wrong. Uncle Vernon slammed the door behind them sharply and turned on Harry with an accusing stare.

"So!" he said brandishing a letter in his left hand. Harry was sick of being treated like this. Like he was a criminal, the dirt on his uncles shoes. Harry had done things. Heroic things. His parents had been heroes, not freaks. He didn't deserve this life.

"This just arrived" said Uncle Vernon, not noticing Harry's fowl temper. He thrust the letter into Harry's hand. "A letter. About you" Who could possibly be writing to Uncle Vernon about Harry? Uncle Vernon's glare burned into his skull as Harry read.

_Dear Mr and Mrs Dursley_

_We have never been introduced, but I am sure you have heard a great deal from Harry about my son Ron. As Harry might have take you, the final of the Quidditch World Cup takes place next Monday night, and my husband, Arthur, has just managed to get prime tickets through his connections at the Department of Magical Games and Sports. I do hope you will allow us to take Harry to the match, as this really is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity; Britain hasn't hosted the Cup for the thirty years and tickets are extremely hard to come by. We would of course be glad to have Harry to stay for the remainder of the summer holidays, and to see him safely onto the train back to school. It would be best of Harry to send us your answer as quickly as possible in the normal way, because the muggle postman has never delivered to our house, and I am not sure he even knows where it is. Hoping to see Harry soon, Yours Sincerely,  
_

_Molly Weasley_

Harry didn't say a word, he just continued to stare at the ticket to his freedom. Uncle Vernon was still glaring at Harry, who was attempting to keep his expression neutral. Harry decided to break the silence. "So-can I go, then?"

Uncle Vernon's face spasmed, a furious battle as two of Uncle Vernon's fundamental instincts came into conflict. Allow Harry to be happy, or get stuck with him for the rest of the summer. Uncle Vernon was perusing the letter again.

"Quidditch, what is this rubbish?" Harry felt a stab of annoyance at Vernon's ignorance.

"Its a sport" he said shortly and to rub it in his face he addded. "Playes on broomsticks" really highlighting the laast word.

"Alright! Alright!" Boomed unlce Vernon, Harry saw with great satisfaction that he looked extremely outraged at his explanation. "How many times do I have to tell you not to mention that unnaturalness under my roof!" he hissed, balling his great fat sausage fingers into fists. Harry could see what was coming, but gone were the days he would just sit back and take the abuse. Everything had changed.

"Can I go now? Only I've got a letter to Sirius I need to write, you know, my Godfather. He's been hinting that he wants to visit. If I can't go to the Quidditch World Cup"-Harry shrugged casually-"I might just have to say yes". He had done it. He'd said the magic words (so to speak). Harry sat back and watched happily as his words sunk in. If Vernon told Harry he couldn't go to the World Cup, a 'murderous raving lunatic' might just show up on their doorstep.

And if Harry told his Godfather about how he's beenm treated over the years something much worse then Dudley's curly pig tail could occur. There was only one conclusion to this situation. Harry tried not to smiule, to his face blank, starring down his uncle. Daring him to say no. And then-

"Well, all right then. You can go to this stupid World Cup thing. But I don't want to hear a peep from you for the rest of the year. Nothing you hear! You leave that door you don't come back!"

"Okay then" Harry said brightly, Vernon caving like a house of cards. He turned a nearly skipped towards the living room door, he swung it open and the took the staircase three steps at a time. He practically hurled himself into his room. Upon entering the room a small feathery object flew into the side of his head and bounced backwards onto the bed. Harry then realised that it was a minute owl and it had dropped a letter on his bed.

_Harry,_

_DAD GOT THE TICKETS - Ireland vs Bulgaria, Monday night. Its all set! Mum wrote a letter to the muggles to be polite but no matter what we're coming to get you. If they say yes send your answer back pronto and we'll cine get you at five o'clock on Sunday. If they say no, we'll still come get you. Hermione and Neville are arriving this afternoon. Nevilles' Grandmother was over the moon to hear Harry Potter had invited her Grandson. I thought she was going to wet herself when I saw her in Diagon Alley. So get your stuff together Golden Boy, we're coming for you. See you soon.  
_

_Ron.  
_

"Calm down!" Harry said, as the small owl twittering madly with what Harry could only assumewas pride at having delivered the letter to the right person. "Come here, I need youto take my answer back!" The owl fluttered down ontop of Hedwigs cage, and grabbed a fresh piece of parchment.

_Ron__,_

_Its all ok, the muggles say I can come. Wouldn't have stopped me anyway. Its going to be brilliant. I can't wait. The Gryffindor boys together again! See you at five o'clock tomorrow.  
_

_Harry, a.k.a Golden Boy  
_

He folded the note up very small and, with immense difficulty tied it to the tiny owls leg, as it hopped on one spot excitedly. The moment the note was secure it was off like a shot, zooming out of the window. Harry watched it fly into the distance, a tiny spec on the horizon. He hadn't mentioned anything about Hermione coming, maybe she'd realised why he'd done what he did?


	4. Chapter 4

**DISCLAIMER! I OWN NOTHING! DISCLAIMER!**

By 4'oclock the next day Harry had packed and re-packed his trunk at least four times. Checking and re-checking he head everything he could possibly need and of course all of his prized possessions - the invisibility cloak he had inherited from his father, the broomstick Sirius had given him and the enchanted map; his birth right as the sole heir to the marauder legacy.

No.4 Privet Drive had been extrememly tense all day, the house was spotless and Uncle Vernon had even dressed in his best suit. This wasn't a welcome gesture just an attempt to be superior and intimadating. Harry spent most of the day in his bedroom, staring out the window. Eagerly anticipating the arrival to his freedom. He bounded down the stairs at quarter to five, hauling his trunk behind him.

He sat patiently on the steps, waiting, by 5'oclock Harry's foot was tapping insesintly on the floor. He just wanted to go, to leave this living hell.  
"They're late!" Uncle Vernon snarled, stoming into the hallway and throwing an accusing finger at Harry. "Your Kind! Never giving any consideration to other people! Your parents were the same! Kept us waiting at poor Petunia's father's funeral, they did!" he roared slamming his fist hard down on the bannister.

The anger silently starting boling inside Harry, seething in him until his own hands began to shake in tightly formed balls. He was about ready to turn on Vernon when a great scream came from the living room and Dudley charged past Harry, escaping upstairs. Harry jumped up, loud bangings and scrapings were coming from behind the Dursleys boarded up fireplace. He knew immediantly what must have happend, Floo Powder.

"Harry? Harry, can you hear us?" The unmistakable voice of Mr Weasley came hammering through the wall. "Ouch Fred! Stop moving! George go back! Tell Ron not to!-"

"AAAARGGH! Whats happend? Has something gone wrong?" Ron's panicked voice now joined Mr Weasley.

"Oh, no, Ron" began Fred

"No, this is exactly where we wanted to end up" finshed george with identical sarcasm.

"Harry?" Mr Weasley called again. Harry glanced ath his Aunt and Uncle before answering.

"Yes Mr Weasley! I can hear you, the fire place has been blocked up. _The muggles_ have an electric one" he spoke loudly and clearly.

Vernon rounded on Harry, his face the distinct colour of a beetroot. "Listen hear you little freak! I don't know what your playing at but you fix this, you fix this now!"

"Now hang on a minute!" Mr Weasley's muffled voice blared through the wall angrily. "This isn't Harry's fault-"

Vernon cut his off, too angry to be afraid of a voice in a wall. "Its his kind thats the problem, abnromal, good for nothing, FREAKS!" he bellowed at the fire place.

"Stand back Harry" Yelled Mr Weasley.

BANG! The electric fire shot across the room as the boarded-up-fire-place burst outwards. Expelling Mr Weasley, Fred, George and Ron in a cloud of rubble and loose chippings. Mr Weasley immediantly straightend himself up, his face a pale mask of anger. "Fred, George grab Harry's trunk" he ordered, spying it lying in the hallway. "Ron, grab Hedwigs cage, all of you floo back immediantly. No arguments". The three sons didn't dare argue with their father, who spoke in such a quiet steady voice, it could have scared the 'boo!' from a ghost.

Harry stood statue like next to the sofa eyeing his Aunt and Uncle who had retreated next to the wall. They were held there under the heavy gaze of Arthur Weasley. The three boys quickly grabbed the objest and returned to the burrow, in a roar of emerald flames.

"Harry son, your turn" Mr Weasley held out the floo power bag kindly, still not tearing his gaze away from the Dursleys. Who were shaking terrified in the corner. "I'm sorry about all this my boy"-he said gesturing the rubble clad room-"I'll fix it before I go" he added sincerely.

"Well...bye them" Harry said stabbing at a shot of politness towards his Aunt and Uncle, for Arthur Weasley's sake. The Dursleys didn't say anything at all. Harry moved towards the fire, but just as he reached the edge of the hearth, Mr Weasley put out a hand and held him back.

"Harry said goodbye to you" he almost growled. "Didn't. You. Hear. Him?" enuciating every word furiously.

"Goodbye" Vernon spat out resentfully. The only thing that held Harry back from giving his uncle a well deserved punch was Arthurs calming hand on his shoulder. He really didn't care what the Dursleys thought. He was almost free.

"Go on Harry, I'll follow after I've cleaned up"

Harry stepped into the fire, not even glancing back as he shouthed "The Borrow!" The next moment Harry began to spin very fast in a rush of emerald green flames. He spun faster and faster, elbows tucked into his side, excitment welling up inside the pit of his stomach until he started to feel sick and closed his eyes. He managed to bring himself to a hault before landing face first on the Weasleys kitchen floor. He was finally free.

"Are you alright mate?" Ron asked clasping Harry on the shoulder and leading him to an empty chair at the kitchen table. "I never thought they were that bad, I thought that bloody git was gonna hit you" he exlaimed.

"Wouldn't be the first time" Harry grumbled coldly, still reeling from the encounter.

"No!" Fred gasped

"He doesn't!" George shouted with equal horror. "That's barbaric!"

"It doesn't matter, I'm here now" Harry tried to shrug the the stituation away, he didn't want to feel pitied. Before anyone could say anthing else there was a faint popping noise, and Mr Weasley appeared out of thin air at Harry's shoulder. He was looking angrier then he had ever seen him.

"The NERVE!" he boomed, shaking the house. "To treat you like that, Ron said they hated wizards but I thought he was exaggerating! Your parents would never have stood for it Harry"

"Dad! Harry said his Uncle beats him" Ron interupted loudly. Harry wished he hadn't. Arthur became reder, fury clearly painted across his face. He didn't stand in kitchen for a moment longer and swept out of the room, passing his wife standing silent in the doorway. Mrs Weasley gave her husband a comforting squeeze on the arm before allowing him to stomp up the stairs.

"Mrs Weasley" Harry greeted the kindly witch, sadness and guilt evident in his voice.

"Oh Harry" she almost wept, walking straight towards him and seeting herself in the chair next to him. Grabbing Harry's hands in her own warmly. "Your parents, your, your parents"-she hesitated, searching for something in Harry's green eyes-" Arthur's right, James and Lily would never have stood for this. If they could see you now-"Mrs Weasely shuddered-" James would have killed him. He almost did once before. Your unlce slapped your mother, called her a freak and slapped her!" Mrs Weasley clenched her hands around Harry's.

Harry felt the tears stinging behind his eyes, but he refused to give his Aunt and Uncle the satisfaction. He couldn't understand, if his parents hated Vernon and Petunia, why had he been left with them? Why had he been left with people who hated every essence of his being? Harry hadn't notice Mrs Weasley stand up and start pacing madly around the room. Ron, Fred and George were all silent, each of them wearing similar expressions of outrage and sadness. Mrs Weasley began muttering, talking to herself, pacing back and forth in front of the large homely fireplace.

"I just, I don't see, James and Lily would never have wanted this. Why? Why then?" she started pulling at her firey red hair, stopping suddenly when Harry spoke.

"Its alright, I'm safe now" that sentence hurt Mrs Weasley more then anything she had heard previously. Silence enveloped the room, she took a deep soothing breath and placed a hand on her heart.

"Thats not the point Harry dear. You should never have been placed in that sort of environment" Harry cast his gaze down and flicked it up towards the doorway. Hermione stood there. Her face a blank canvas, just staring at Harry. Just staring. He dropped his head in shame.


	5. Chapter 5

**DISCLAIMER! I OWN NOTHING! DISCLAIMER!**

That evening had been a quiet one. No big raucous dinner. No larger than life antis from Fred or George. And, as it seemed, Harry's story had spread throughout the house like wildfire. Not even Harry's introduction to Ron's two elder brothers, Bill and Charlie, helped the matter. They took one look at Harry and he could feel the pity rolling off of them in waves. It was evident in the kindly smile Bill gave and the friendly hand shake from Charlie.

Harry felt like he wanted to be sick, he could survive with the abuse, but not this. Never this. Like he was weak. His past surely proved that wrong. Through all his silent brooding it never once occurred to the-boy-who-lived that just surviving was not enough.

That evening Harry, Ron, Fred, George and Neville sat up talking in Ron's room; at the top of the house. Fred and George had been kicked out of their room because of Bill and Charlie. But they didn't mind, not with the excitement of the Quidditch World Cup looming. Ron's room looked much the same as it had done the last time Harry had come to stay. The same posters of Ron's favourite quidditch team, the Chudley Cannons, were whirling and waving on the walls and ceiling.

Except now the room held two fold out camper beds and three mattresses laid out across the floor; taken up by Fred, George and Neville.

"I can't believe it Harry, we should have tested some of out products on him" George began, outraged.

"Yeah, the ton-tongue-toffee would have gone down a treat" Fred elbowed his twin conspiratorially.

"Hey I think Harry's had a couple victories" Ron announced, sensing his best friends discomfort. All night the Weasley family had been on the subject of Harry's abuse and Ron could see how miserable it have been making Harry. "He set a Boa Constrictor on the muggles at the Zoo once and didn't you blow your uncle's sister up like a balloon, last year?" Ron grinned madly.

All eyes reverted to Harry, but it wasn't like before. It was admiration. It was awe. He secretly reveled in the attention.

"You didn't, did you Harry?" Neville said, staring up at Harry in amazement.

"She didn't die or anything, but I can still see her face bouncing off of the ceiling" he laughed, it shocked him to do so; an almost alien thing escaping from his mouth. But it felt good, it felt so good. The dream roamed freely from his mind. Neville was so enchanted by Harry's story that he wondered whether they could do something like that to Snape. The twins and Ron eagerly agreed. But Harry wasn't so sure, he felt they should come up with something a bit more original for their favourite potions master.

Harry felt as though he had barely slept when he was being shaken awake by Mrs Weasley. "Time to go, Harry dear" she said smiling kindly and even stroked back Harry's hair from his face; as he imagined a mother would do. She moved on quickly to wake up a snoring Ron and the three lumps curled on the floor.

Mrs Weasley must still have been worrying about the night before and the incident with his Aunt and Uncle. Harry guessed he couldn't expect her to forget as quickly as he hoped. Mr Weasley had been seething so badly he hadn't been seen at dinner. Harry felt around for his glasses, put them on and sat up.

The room was pitch black except for the small glow of a candle Mrs Weasley had lit to find her way around the crowded room. The boys got ready in silence, except for Neville who was desperately looking for his other shoe.

"Come on boys!" Mrs Weasley screeched up the stairs. "The girls are already eating breakfast!"

Harry felt his gut clench. The girls. Hermione and Ginny...Hermione. It suddenly really dawned on him what was about to happen. He and the girl who hated him, were about to be forced into close contact for the foreseeable future.

"Merlin Harry! Don't just stop like that!" Ron shouted, grasping the back of Neville's clothes so he wouldn't fall head first down four flights of stairs.

"Sorry" he mumbled and began walking again. But slower, much slower. Not quite ready to see her face. The one that had made him feel so ashamed. Just like in the forest, except that night, it had been laced with betrayal and rage. Harry physically gulped at the memory. If he hadn't already have stolen her wand, he didn't know what she could have been capable of.

It was all Pettegrew's fault! If he hadn't seen them! If he'd just not been there! Everything would be okay and Harry wouldn't of had to...

He shook himself from the memory and descended the last few steps, like he was walking into hell. He spotted _her _straight away. She had her back to him and was talking amicably with Ginny Weasley; Ron's little sister. Her bushy brown curls were swept up into a delicate pony tail and she was wearing a green bomber jacket with the word 'Ireland' written on the back, in big bold silver letters. Obviously showing her support. Ginny was wearing a green scarf with the same design; Harry noticed absently.

"Help yourself boys, its all on the table" Mrs Weasley called over her shoulder from trifling through a kitchen cabinet...in search of something Harry assumed.

"Where's everyone else?" Ron yawned and yanked Harry into a seat next to him. Neville basically tripped into his seat, his eyes not fully open yet.

"Your father should be down in a minute and your brothers don't have to be up yet. They can apparate, so they get a lie in" Mrs Weasley said halfheartedly, to engrossed in her search.

Harry tried desperately to keep conversation going. Trying to prove to Hermione that he was having a great time, despite her infectious presence.

"So Neville, I hear your Grandmother was pleased about you coming?" Harry asked cheekily, smirking at Ron. He noticed Neville's ears go slightly pink before he answered.

Harry watched Neville gulp, take a sidelong look at Ginny and respond "Well its not everyday, I get invited somewhere by the Golden boy" Harry grinned broadly, that had taken a lot of guts.

"Your right Neville, I'm just so damn famous" Harry posed like a model for a moment and winked confidently at the twins. Who were too busy staring shocked at the playful banter. A side of the two Gryffindor's they had never seen before.

*Cough* "Prat" *Cough* came from Ron, who was smirking into his bowl of cereal.

Harry slapped Ron on the back so hard Fred and George winced. He continued slapping as if trying to stop his best friend from chocking "Its okay Ronnette, jealously isn't a good colour on you" he started rubbing his hand on the place he had been slapping; as if to sooth.

Ron shook him off and thwacked his friend on the back of the head. "Prat" he repeated grinning broadly.

"That's enough boys!" Mrs Weasley shouted, her head still stuck in the kitchen cabinet. Harry wondered absently why she didn't just use magic to find whatever she was looking for.

"Come on kids, time to go, grab your bags and I'll meet you in the garden. The Quidditch Wold Cup awaits!" Mr Weasley was in much better spirits then last night and it had an effect on the group of lifting the tension that had been resting there. Fred and George were the first to leave the house, they rushed out a little too quickly for Harry's liking. It was as if they were trying to hide something. Ginny soon followed, with Neville close on her tail. Ron with all his excitement bounded out of the kitchen and bumped into an off steady Hermione making her drop her rucksack clumsily on the floor.

Harry heard her sigh grumpily, quite clearly not happy about the early wake up call. Harry didn't know what possessed him to walk over to Hermione, to stop dead next to her and pick up her rucksack. He would later argue it wasn't him. He was just being polite. That simple gesture, if seen by the wrong people, would ruin everything.

Hermione stood stumped, two perfect green eyes smoldered into her soul. They burned through her heart, wreaking havoc, an internal injury she had thought healed. She could feel the tears beginning to sting behind her dirty brown eyes. She snatched the rucksack from his grasp and marched out across the dark front yard. With not a word to him. He didn't deserve her thanks, her voice.

All she could hear inside her head was the resounding sound of one Harry James Potter and the words that had broken her heart _"She's nothing to me"_


	6. Chapter 6

**DISCLAIMER! I OWN NOTHING! DISCLAIMER!**

Harry had to quickly swallow his voice and control his hands as they hopelessly grasped thin air, trying to find a way to keep her close. He'd seen it, the hurt. So clear, so raw. It had knocked him for six. He wanted her back. He wanted her back! He wanted the moment in the forest. The one before it all. Harry swiftly chased after the retreating figure of Hermione and suddenly stopped. He was doing this for her. To keep her matter what he felt. No matter how hard he wished he could return to that pure, blissful second in the forest. He had to remind himself. It was all for her. It was always all for her.

The crisp morning was chilly and the moon still hung low in the sky. Only a dull, green-ish tinge along the horizon to their right showed that daybreak was drawing closer.

"Hurry up Harry! We're on a tight schedule!" Mr Weasley yelled at him, trailing at the far back of the group. Immediately Ron and Neville slowed their paced and retreated to his side.

"I still say Ireland don't stand a chance. Bulgaria have Krum, case settled!" Ron argued with Neville obviously a worn out argument.

"Bulgaria have one good player-"Neville conceded-"but Ireland have SEVEN" the guy did have a point.

"Come on Harry what do you think" Ron whinged, sending death stares at Neville, who just rolled his eyes.

"Well you do have a point, the game usually does ride on the seeker-" Harry said diplomatically

"HAH!" Ron said smugly

"_But _you can't underestimate your team" this made Neville smirk.

"Whatever" Ron grumbled, hiking his rucksack up and refused to talk about Ireland's chances in the World Cup for a full ten minutes. Which was huge...for Ron.

"How are we meant to be getting there anyway?" Harry asked, not quite understanding how hundreds of thousands of witches and wizards were supposed to get there without drawing attention.

"Portkey" Ron answered, as if it were noting at all.

"Care to elaborate?"

"Oh, yeah, sorry. They're objects that are used to transport wizards from one spot to another at a prearranged time. You can do big groups like ours really easily with portkeys, that's how we're getting there" Ron drowned, obviously having heard far too much about these objects from his family. But Harry found it fascinating, it was like an aeroplane for wizards.

They trudged down dark, dank lanes towards the village of Ottery St Catchpole, the silence broken only by their footsteps. The sky lightened very slowly as they made their way through the village, its inky blackness diluting to deepest blue. Harry's hands and feet were freezing and Neville had the pinkest nose he had ever seen. The group didn't have a breath to spare for talking as they began to climb Stoatshead Hill. Harry always keeping a keen eye on Hermione, carefully watching her footing in case she fell. He, himself stumbled occasionally in the hidden rabbit holes and slipped on the thick black tuffets of grass. But Hermione never faltered, appearing to glide over anything that might trip her.

Each breath Harry took was sharp in his chest, and his legs were starting to seize up; like he'd just been put through his paces at one of Wood's more brutal quidditch practices. But finally he found his feet on level ground. They'd made it.

"Whew" panted Mr Weasley, taking off his glasses and wiping them on his muggle clothes. They were meant to be traveling incognito, so the muggle attire was a must. "Well, we've made good time - we've got ten minutes...now we just need to find the Portkey" said Mr Weasley, replacing his glasses and squinting around at the ground. "It won't be big...come on..."

They spread out searching. Harry tried to keep his distance from Hermione. Not wanting to have another stand off, like in the kitchen back at the borrow. They had only been at it a couple of minutes when a shout rang out from the other side of the hilltop.

"Over here, Arthur! Over here, son, we've got it!" Two tall figures were silhouetted against the starry sky.

"Amos!" said Mr Weasley, smiling as he strode over to the man who had shouted. The group followed.  
Mr Weasley began shaking hands with a ruddy-faced wizard with a scrubby brown beard, who was holding a moldy old boot in his hands...it must be the portkey.

"This is Amos Diggory, everyone" said Mr Weasley "Works for the department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. And I think you know his son, Cedric?"

Cedric Diggory was an extremely handsome boy of around seventeen. He was captain and seeker of the Hufflepuff house Quidditch team and Hogwarts.  
Everybody said "Hi", except for Fred and George who still hadn't forgiven him for beating their team last year.

"All these yours Arthur?" Amos asked, peering good-naturedly at the three Weasley boys, Ginny, Neville, Hermione and Harry.

"Oh, no, only the redheads" said Mr Weasley chuckling, he then pointed out his children. "This is Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom, friends of Ron's - and Harry Potter another friend -"

"Merlin's Beard" said Amos Diggory, his eyes widening. "Harry? Harry _Potter_?"

"Er-yeah" said Harry, not really wanting to draw attention to himself. Being famous for something you can't remember isn't really anything to boast about. Harry was used to people looking curiously at him, used to the way their eyes moved at once to the lightning scar on his forehead. It was not unusual, just a nuisance. Harry wouldn't mind so much if it were something to be proud of. For him, it was just a symbol of his parents death and that was it.

"Ced's talked about you, of course" said Amos Diggory. "Told us all about playing you last year...I said to him, I said - Ced, that'll be something to tell you grandchildren, that will..._you bear Harry Potter!_"

This really hit a nerve with Harry. The pompous prick had no idea what he was talking about. He needed to be put in his place. "I was a little preoccupied during that match, what with trying to fight of a dozen _Dementors"_ Harry emphasized that last word. Enjoying Mr Diggory's physical shudder at the mention of the foul creatures.

Fred and George were looking rather smug at Harry's retort and Cedric looked a little more than mortified. Harry caught Hermione's eye and he could have sworn he saw a trace smugness there.

"Must be nearly time" said Mr Weasley quickly, pulling out his watch again. "Do you know whether we're waiting for more, Amos?"

"No, the Lovegoods have been there for a week already and the Fawcetts couldn't get tickets" said Mr Diggory, his ego thoroughly deflated. "There aren't any more of us in the area, are there?"

"Not that I know of" said Mr Weasley. "Yes, it's minutes off...we'd better get ready..." He looked around and Harry and Hermione "You just need to touch the Portkey, a finger will do-"

The group of ten struggled to stand around the old boot. What with the bulky backpacks each of them wore. Harry managed to finagle a spot away from the Diggory's and close enough to Hermione without being too conspicuous. Nobody spoke. They all just stood, ten people, two grown men, clutching a manky old boot.

"Three..."muttered Mr Weasley, one eye still on his watch,"two...one..."


	7. Chapter 7

**DISCLAIMER! I OWN NOTHING! DISCLAIMER!**

"Seven past five from Stoatshead Hill" said a nasally voice. Harry looked up. Mr Weasley, Mr Diggory and Cedric were still standing, though looking very windswept; everybody else was on the ground. The Portkey had caused Harry's feet to slam into the ground so hard he thought his knee's were shattered. He looked around frantically for Hermione. She was already standing, readjusting her clothes and helping Ginny stand up; the rucksack weighing the small girl down. Harry watched happily as Neville ran over to help.

Harry disentangled himself from Ron and got to his feet. They had arrived on what appeared to be a deserted stretch of misty moor. In front of them was a pair of tired and grumpy-looking wizards; one of whom was holding a large gold watch and the other a thick roll of parchment.

"Morning Basil" Mr Weasley said, greeting the man dressed in Scottish kilt.

"Hello there Arthur" Basil answered wearily. He looked very bedraggled and in need of a good nights rest. "Not on duty eh? Its alright for some...we've been here all night-"concluding Harry's assessment of the man-"Hang on I'll find you campsite...Weasley...Weasley". He consulted his parchment list. "About a quarter of a miles walk over there, first field you come to...Diggory...second field"

The group quickly exited the portkey landing site and made there way across the deserted moor in a bustle of heaving rucksacks. After about twenty minutes, a small stone cottage next to a gate swam into view. Beyond it, Harry could just make out the ghostly shapes of hundreds and hundreds of tents, rising up in the gentle slope of a large field towards a dark wood on the horizon. The sight of it reminded Harry of the Dark Forest, if a little smaller.

Harry quickly glanced at Hermione, to see if she had noticed to wood too. But it seemed as if she was purposefully looking everywhere but the horizon. It irked Harry to see that that meant long periods of staring at Cedric bloody Diggory. He'd be happy when they left. A man was standing in the doorway of the cottage at the entrance to the first field. He was a stout man with a quizzical expression on his face. Staring at the newcomers like they were visiting aliens.

Harry knew at a glance that this was the only real muggle for several acres. The Diggory's left rather quickly, giving a quick goodbye to Mr Weasley and furtive glance at Harry. Who, happily walked up a bit closer to Hermione and pictured a thousand fantasies of him gaining her attention in a few cheeky ways. Although that feeling quickly died away and he just strode past her purposefully.

It turns out that the man was the owner to the adjacent field, a Mr Roberts. By the end of the groups meeting with him, the poor muggle had to obliviated three times; to keep him happy. A wizard would pop out of no where when Mr Roberts started asking questions and quieted him before he became too hysterical.

They all trudged up the misty field between long rows of tents. Harry made sure to keep his distance for Hermione. In such a public place, he couldn't risk it, he couldn't risk her safety. Most of the tents they passed looked ordinary; their owners had clearly tried to make them as muggle-like as possible, but had slipped up by adding chimneys, or bell-pulls, or weather vanes. However there were some tents so obviously magical Harry wasn't surprised that Mr Roberts was suspicious. Tents like mini palaces and tents with three floors complete with sun dial and fountains.

They had reached the very edge of the wood at the top of the field, and here was an empty plot, with a small sign hammered into the ground that read 'Weezly'.

Out of no where a war like cry echoed throughout the field and Harry was speared to the floor. He started fighting and scrambling to get the body pressing into him away, only to come face to face with Seamus Finnigan; who had also grown in size over the summer.

"Hiya Golden Boy" he smirked, jumped up and extended his hand to help Harry up.

"What the hell!" Harry shouted indignantly, batting away Seamus's hand and ruffling his hair; while staying firmly seated on the ground.

"That was for last year, nobody pranks me and gets away with it" Seamus said, posing as if he were god. Harry took one look at him and tackled his friends legs, dragging him down to the ground with a resounding thud.

"Alright boys, break it up!" Mr Weasley had come to break up the full on wrestling match. He tore the boys apart with the help of Fred and George.

"Enough lady's" Ron smirked, standing in between Harry and Seamus; who were both being held back by one of the twins. "You're _both_ pretty" he said mock sincerely. Fred and George took one look at each other before releasing their grip on the two fighters so Harry and Seamus could lace into the ginger prick. Before Mr Weasley could tell what was happening, Fred, George, Harry, Seamus, Ron and somehow Neville were all in a huge scrap in the middle of the plot of grass meant for the Weasley tents.

"What. The. Fuck." Dean Thomas stared at the group sparring in front of him. Neville was riding Ron's back like a bucking broncho, his hands covering the Weasley boys eyes as he blindly wobbled forwards and backwards. Fred was getting ready to shove, what looked like a yellow sweet down Ron's throat and George was caught in a tussle between Seamus and Harry. Seamus looked to be sporting a black eye and Harry had a popped lip, along with his eyebrow bleeding profusely.

"Mr Weasley!" Dean shouted to the other side of the fight, he walked around keeping well clear of the flying limbs. Arthur Weasley was busy trying to set up a shabby looking tent, clearly having given up on controlling the boys. "Whats happened?"

"Boy's being boys...its all for fun-"they both eyed the group carefully-"I think...Hermione!" Arthur called, beckoning Miss Granger to his side.

A loud spluttering and gasping for air caught the spectators attention. Harry Potter was lying face down on the ground, clutching his side in agony. He had clearly been caught of guard, distracted by something and now was thoroughly winded.

"Seamus you wanker!" he gasped, trying to catch his breath. The group of boys enclosed on Harry, the fight ended. Mr Weasley rushed over, pushed his way in between his sons and knelt down next to Harry. Once Arthur had checked the boy over he was happy that Harry would be fine, just with a very tender bruise over his abdomen.

"Come on Harry"-Mr Weasley helped him up-"What do the muggles say? Rub some dirt in it! For penance you idiots are setting up the tent!"

That left Ginny and Hermione resting on the grass in the midday sun, while the boys tried to put together a simple tent; Arthur was too excited about doing it the muggle way to let the boys have all the 'fun'. Hermione noticed he looked more like a hindrance than a help.

"They're such idiots" Ginny announced for the thousandth time, she was twisting her hair around her finger absentmindedly and staring straight at Harry, clearly not upset with his behavior.

"Boys" Hermione said with venom, not amused at all by their antics. Harry got exactly what he deserved, she hope he'd cracked a rib.

"Yeah, boys" Ginny sighed not following Hermione's train of thought at all.


	8. Chapter 8

**DISCLAIMER! I OWN NOTHING! DISCLAIMER!**

Harry stood back to admire their handiwork. Nobody looking at these tents would guess they belonged to wizards. But the trouble was, once Bill, Charlie and Percy arrived, they would have a party of eleven. Seamus and Dean had somehow slipped away about ten minutes after starting on the tents. So that left just, Mr Weasley, Fred, George, Neville and Harry attempting to build them. There was no way all of these people could fit into two tents. Not without some unpleasant personal space issues. Harry quizzically stared at Mr Weasley who dropped to his knee's and entered the first tent.

"We'll be a bit cramped" he called back, "But I think we'll all squeeze in. Come and have a look"

Harry bent down, ducked under the tent flap, and felt his jaw drop. He walked into what looked like an old-fashioned, three-roomed flat, complete with bathroom and kitchen. It was decorated with lots of crocheted mats and mismatched chairs, it looked above all homey.

"I borrow it from Perkins down at the office" Mr Weasley continued scratching his bold patch and peering in at the four bunks beds and one single that stood in the bedroom. Harry guessed, that the girls would be staying in the other tent, all to themselves. He picked up the dusty kettle and peered inside it. "We'll need water..."

"There's a tap marked on this map the Muggle gave us" said Ron, who had followed Harry inside the tent, and seemed completely unimpressed by its extraordinary inner proportions. "Its on the other side of the field"

"Well. why don't you, Neville and Ginny go and get us some water, then"-Mr Weasley handed over the kettle and a couple of saucepans-"Fred, George and I will go get some wood for a fire"

"But we've got an oven!" Ron cut his father off mid-sentence.

"We're doing this the Muggle way Ronald!" Mr Weasley shouted, still not completely over the fight.

"What about Harry and Hermione?" Ginny squeaked when she mentioned Harry's name.

"Harry your still bleeding a little go get yourself cleaned up, there's a muggle first aid kit in the other tent" Arthur added excitedly, clearly too happy about doing things the 'muggle' way. "Hermione can you help him?"

Harry didn't dare look at her, he just crawled out of the tent and climbed into the girls tent a few feet away. It was similarly decorated, except a little smaller and without the smell of wet dust everywhere. He waited patiently to hear the others set about on their jobs before searching for the first aid kit, which was in a cupboard in the kitchen.

He yanked off his white t-shirt, stained with dirt and blood and let it drop to the floor. He sighed and started to dab at his eyebrow with a wet cloth, trying to clean it. He assumed _she_ had tagged along with Ginny, not baring to be in the same room as him; he thought bitterly. That was until a sharp intake of breath caused Harry to freeze in place. His mind silenced as the only thought running around his brain took over '_HERMIONE'._

* * *

She hated him. She hated him. She would gladly hex him into oblivion and smile doing it. How could Mr Weasley even suggest her 'helping' that slime ball. The very thought of it sent a sickly feeling up her spine. UH! He just left, just barged out of the tent, without even a sideways glance at her. Fred and George were the first to clamber out after Harry, setting to work on finding fire wood. Mr Weasley soon followed, with Ginny, Ron and Neville. How she wished she could go with them. But that would only highlight her and Harry's icy proximity.

No. She would have to suck it up and follow Harry. Hermione had worked so hard to seem 'normal', this summer, that she wasn't going to ruin it now. No matter how much she loathed the boy. She closed her eyes, just kept them shut, standing in the middle of the tent, with a steadying hand on one of the mismatched armchairs. Hermione sucked in a long deep breath, drawing in courage as she did so.

She crept slowly to the exit, shook her head and crawled out. Hermione didn't stop to see Ron, Neville and Ginny walking away in the distance or the odd look she received from the twins as they tried to persuade their father to use the oven. She simply glided forward, not stopping for fear of losing her nerve. Like a ghost she entered the other tent. Not making a sound, although she could hear her heart hammering loudly as it pulsed electric blood around her body. The interior of the tent was similar to the last, although it had a much more feminine touch to its decoration. Clearly the less used of the two tents.

Hermione gasped sharply. _He _was standing there. _Harry._ His shirtless back to her. She'd never known. She'd never thought. That night, in the forest. Harry was scarred, thick long claw marks stretched down his wide back. She had always thought magic could cure anything, but guessed it didn't work against already cursed creatures. Just another scar to add to the collection she thought grimly.

It took her a few seconds to realize the changes in him, she had refused to see before. He was taller, had grown into a broader frame, he looked very much the young man. Not a boy.

"Hermione" he acknowledged her presence gruffly, un-freezing and continuing to dab around the cut on his eyebrow. Hermione didn't know what possessed her to, but she swept across the room spun Harry around and snatched the wet cloth from his hand. They were now standing directly in front of each other, she could almost feel the heat radiating off of him.

"Sit down" Hermione ordered with quiet authority. Pointing to one of the chairs in the small living room. Harry gave her a confused glance and then seated himself on the other side of the room, next to the small fireplace.

Hermione followed, her arms felt like ice shards had been rammed through them. She was so nervous, for some undescernable reason. Crossing the small distance between herself and Harry might as well have been like walking on hot coals, for how good she felt. Hermione reached his chair, his eyes locked on hers like burning emerald flames. She knelt delicately on the floor in front of him and grabbed his chin between her fore-finger and thumb. He looked surprised, it almost made her laugh.

His presence was intoxicating, she had not been this close to him since that night. It was a bitter reminder of what had been. Hermione began to clean Harry's cut with the wet cloth she had stolen from him, she didn't attempt to be gentle and although she saw it was causing him pain. He never said a word, never pulled away. Just continued to stare, not even blinking. The silence was getting awkward, she could quite clearly hear the Wealsey twins conversation outside and it unnerved her.

"You did a crap job" she said, indicating to botched job he did of cleaning it himself. He simply shrugged casually as his only reply. 'So that was his game?' She thought. 'Fine. I want answers'

"Why did you do it?" she almost choked out, finding great difficulty to talk about that night. The night she had worked so hard to repress. Harry stiffened beneath her fingers, but didn't move away.

"Leave it" he said, his voice deeper then she could remember.

"No I won't leave it!" she shout whispered, very aware that the Weasley's could probably hear any normal conversation. Hermione dug the wet cloth painfully into his cut to prove her words. "It doesn't make sense"

"Just leave it" you could almost say he sounded sincere, but all Hermione could hear was denial. She continued cleaning his cut for a few minutes, until all the dried blood was washed away and she started on his bust lip. It was swollen slightly and looked very tender. His lips.

"We _kissed _Harry"-Hermione softly caressed his lower lip with the damp cloth-"you can't say it didn't mean anything" tears were starting to form in her eyes and she desperately worked to keep them at bay. "_You _kissed _me. _You took me in your arms and kissed _me"_ She stressed those last few words, grasping at the memory of a night long ago.

"Hermione, please" Harry lifted his head slightly out of her grasp, so her hands fell limply on his knee's. Hermione bowed her head, staring down. She could feel his eyes burning into her. She could feel his presence like a live wire in the room. It was the forbidden subject. But she couldn't stop.

"I don't...I just don't understand" she whimpered slightly, all pretense gone. "You saved me from Lupin, we were safe, we kissed and then _Pettegrew_..."she trailed off in spite. Hermione's hands were now somehow encased in Harry's, tears streaking down her cheeks and landing on him like raindrops.

"Forget it Hermione, forget it and leave it alone" his voice laced with the most delicate amount of pain. Clutching her hands a little tighter, only for a second. But that was all she needed.

"No. Harry! You did this to me!" still looking down, still refusing to meet his gaze. Anger sweeping off of her in waves. "_She means nothing to me! She's nothing but an end to a means! A stupid little girl that doesn't know when to call it quits! _Oh and my particular favourite, _a mudblood stalker!" _Hermione seethed, the air around her practically crackling with wand-less magic. All the while her voice held steady, a deadly edge to her quiet tone.

"Hermione its not-" but Harry stopped himself short, biting his tongue. He clenched his fists together and held every emotion inside.

"Its not what? Harry! As soon as Pettegrew turned up you went cold, at first I thought you were just trying to protect me! How _wrong_ I was!" Hermione leant against the kitchen sink, trying to run the tap, only to realize they had no water. She spun around, unbeknownst to her that Harry had already walked the short distance between the two and was directly behind her.

Hermione whispered somberly "It was all a game, just some cheap trick". She locked eyes with him for the first time since entering the tent. Hermione didn't know if emerald could blaze, but she had never seen anything quite so 'alive' before. He looked like he was in physical pain, holding himself back. Refusing to answer her questions.

"No"

"No?"

"Just leave it Hermione, you'll be better off for it" Harry's ice cold voice left nothing for sympathy. If you were just listening to this conversation, you would say he was empty of feeling any sort of remorse. But Hermione wasn't simply listening. His eyes told a different truth.

"You idiot!" She bellowed, not leaving any pretense of a quiet conversation anymore. She didn't care if people could hear her. She didn't care if she sounded like a banshee. "You absolute idiot! How many times Harry!"

"Leave it Hermione" Harry's voice far more stern then before, he backed away from her.

"No. I will _not_ Harry Potter! All this time! You bloody selfless git! You let me believe you hated me you noble prick!"-She started pacing around the kitchen, picked up his shirt and through it full belt at the back of his head. "Haven't I proved myself time and again, I can handle it! Pettegrew _can't _hurt me"

"He _can_ Hermione, he bloody well _can_!" Harry yelled, it sounded something a kin to thunder ripping through the air. She stood statue like, she had never seen him react like that before. She had never seen him much more than angry. Now, now he was livid. "I won't argue on this Hermione. Its for the best. Now just leave it"

"Harry" she gasped, trying to grasp at another line of approach, but his outburst had completely shocked her into silence.

"Leave it" He said in a stoney voice and stormed out of the tent. The bright sunshine attacked Harry's eyesight and momentarily blinded him. But that's all that was needed. He stumbled slightly and fell into something hard, which stumbled in turn with a loud splashing noise followed by a yell.

"Watch it Harry!" Ron cried, knocking his friend with the empty bucket.

"My shoes!" Neville yelled looking down glumly at his soaking wet muggle trainers.

"Wow that's a bruise!" Ron admired, it was only then he noticed he wasn't wearing a top. Hermione appeared from the girls tent and everyone stared at her, then at Harry and then back to her. It was his worst nightmare. Harry grabbed the empty bucket from Ron and stormed off from their campsite. He yanked on his shirt and didn't stop to wait for his best mate until they were clearly out of ear shot.


	9. Chapter 9

**DISCLAIMER! I OWN NOTHING! DISCLAIMER!**

"Harry whats going on?" Ron said trying desperately to keep up with his irate best friend. Harry was just stomping his way through the campsite, through what looked like a city of tents that stretched in every direction.

"Just leave it Ron" Harry repeated his previous statements to Hermione. Speaking about it would make it real, if it was real then there was no escaping it and she would never be safe.

Ron ran ahead slightly, stopped in front of Harry and blocked his path. "Harry, tell me" his tone was so steady, so different to his usual teasing attitude. This was a side of Ron that Harry had rarely seen, the only other time was when his little sister, Ginny, had been taken into the Chamber of Secrets in second year.

"Ron, I can't"

"You can't what Harry? I'm your best friend, you can tell me anything. It's to do with Hermione isn't it! There's been something off between you two since the end of third year."

"Lower you voice Ron" Harry said, shoving the bucket into Ron's gut in order to push him out of the way.

"Blimey! Does the Golden Boy not want a _scene_!"

"Drop it Ron!" Harry said sternly eying the witches and wizards bustling about their tents. It was only just dawning on Harry how many witches and wizards there must be in the world; and he couldn't trust any of them with his secret.

Ron stomped over to Harry who had wandered forward a little "Just tell me". Harry grabbed onto Ron's jumper and dragged him away from the audience they had started to attract. He lead them around the back of a few tents, where only a little boy was playing outside, poking at a slug, with what was probably his parents wand.

"Ron, its _complicated_. No one can know"

"Including you best mate? I'm not stupid Harry"

"Me and Hermione"-Harry looked around hesitantly, almost like trying to clutch at an idea that hadn't truly formed-"Me and Hermione...we...the forest"

"What happened in the forest Harry?" Ron replied exasperatedly, feeling as if they had been running around this subject for months without even knowing.

"_We kissed" _Harry hissed under his breath, eying the little boy ten feet away as if he were a death eater in disguise.

"And?" Ron hedged, his eyes popping at the news. Not expecting that revelation. But it wasn't a lot, it wasn't enough to cause this rift they had in the group.

"_Wormtail_" Harry's fists clenched into tight balls, his entire body hardened into a rigid form of hatred.

Suddenly a tired looking woman came hurrying out of the tent next to the small boy. Harry's hatred slipping at the return to normalcy. "_How _many times, Kevin? You _don't - touch - Daddy's - wand - yeuch!_" She had trodden on the slug, which subsequently burst under her heavy foot. Harry tugged on Ron's jumper again and moved them on.

A short way further on Harry halted. Ron hadn't spoken a word since Harry had uttered that traitors name. He was waiting, allowing his friend time to get things straight.

"Ron, you _need_ to understand. You remember I told you how Hermione had a time turner? How we went back in time to save Sirius and Buckbeak?"Harry's green eyes glazed over, his gaze fixated on the horizon. His mind somewhere far off in the distance.

"When Lupin transformed next to the Womping Willow, it was Hermione who cried out like a werewolf. She saved everyone. But then...then he was after us and we just ran into the forest."-His voice carried a haunted edge to it, and Ron was silent, too entranced to interrupt-"It was terrifying. He was so close to us Ron, we could have died. Hermione was running ahead of me when the werewolf crashed into my back. She then saved me, again...

Suddenly the knife like claws ripped from his back, the weight gone. He tried to push himself up, but lacked the will power to push through the agony. "Harry come on!" Hermione was by his side. She was alright, a wave of relief flooding his body as he saw the tears freely streaking down her cheeks. "Get up Harry, Lupin won't be down for long!"

Harry flung his gaze over his shoulder and saw Professor Lupin, the werewolf, crumpled against the base of a sturdy looking old oak tree. His muzzle frothed and sharp yellow teeth dug into the ground, they were overgrown and could barely fit into the mouth.

"Move Harry!" startled, he jumped up, grabbed Hermione's elbow and hauled them both off deeper into the forest. The werewolf was already beginning to stir, the blood staining his claws intoxicating the air around him. His blood red eyes filled with the need for flesh.

Panting breaths mingled in with the sounds around them. They couldn't stop running. It was the only escape. Every shadow somehow felt to Harry like an intruder poised to kill. He couldn't let that happen. He pulled Hermione over tree roots and through small gaps in the tree's. But it wasn't enough. Harry frantically looked around searching anywhere for them to hide, anywhere they could escape a terrifying creature of a curse.

"Harry in there!" apparently on the same wave length as harry, she pointed to the narrow opening of a hollow tree. The pair made a bee line to it and with a lot of shoving and pushing they both clambered inside.

A shrill howl tore into the night, it seemed to shake the very core of the forest. It was coming for them.

"Harry" Hermione's voice shook, she was visibly shivering with fear. "Harry" she repeated, even her breath began to shake. "Harry I'm scared"

They stood so closely pressed together, he could feel her terror radiating into him. A sense of strength powered through him. He weaved his arms around her body, pulling her closer and started to shuffle them so his back leant against the narrow opening of the tree hollow. Hermione dug her face into his chest, clinging onto his body like a life raft.

The pair waited there, for what seemed like hours. Harry had hidden his face amongst Hermione's bushy brown hair, Hermione had begun to dig her nails so hard into Harry's sides that it was sure to draw blood and together neither of them had made a sound.

The padding of heavy paws froze the two instantly. Harry's eyes went wide and then shut so tight he could see stars. The creature was close. It was so close Harry could almost smell its musky stench. Growls leapt up suddenly just before the werewolf pounded itself into the side of the tree; the pair were hiding in.

Hermione whimpered, shards of bark started to scatter on their clothes and in their hair. The tree began to shake and shudder with every earth shattering pound into the tree. It was like a morbid countdown, eventually the werewolf would make enough damage...and reach them.

"AHHHHHH!" Harry contorted into the tree, pushing Hermione painfully against the wall of the trunk. Long knife like claws were ripping down his back, trying to get a hold on him. To pull him outside.

"Harry!" Hermione screeched. She couldn't do anything, her wand was in her pocket and her hands were trapped against Harry's sides. "Harry!" she screeched again.

"AHHHHHH!" A fresh rip tore down his spine. Hermione struggled desperately to reach her wand, but it was impossible. Harry was almost slumped against her, his mind fogged by pure agony.

She made one last frantic attempt to reach her wand and her hand grazed against the one in Harry's back pocket. She sidled her hand closer as Harry screamed agonizingly in her ear.

"EXPELLIARMUS!" Hermione bellowed, the opening to the hollow shattered around them and Harry slumped to the floor. Not missing a beat Hermione raised Harry's wand and yelled again "EXPELLIARMUS!" It hit the werewolf square in the face and flung it backwards. Its long gangly arms flailing out. The werewolf hit the hard cold forest floor at a run and retreated into the dark depths of the forest; howling as it went.

"Harry!" Hermione knelt down next to his collapsed form. He half lay inside the hollow and outside. The weaker parts of the trunk had been blown away by Hermione's spell, leaving a lot more room then there had been before.

Harry's clothes were shredded along his back. He was moaning in pain and clutching at clumps of earth with his fists. "Hermione?" He moaned and attempted to lift himself; in search of her.

"I'm here, Harry I'm here" she soothed, gently placing a hand on his face. She was crying now, great heart breaking sobs. But Harry needed her, Harry needed her to be strong. Hermione sucked in a deep breathy sob, clutched Harry's wand tighter and pointed it at the rags covering his mauled back "Reparo" she muttered and the material started to sew itself together, returning to its previous shape; although still drenched in blood.

"Come on Harry, we need to get out of the forest"

"I can't"

"You _have_ to" she hooked her hand under his shoulder and wrenched him up, the pain was indescribable. He shrieked and hissed, anger fueling his adrenaline. Harry attempted to steady himself on her shoulders, half his weight burdening her down.

He looked straight into her eyes. They glistened from freshly shed tears, her lip quivered and dirt smeared her cheeks. "Hermione" he heard himself half mutter-half sigh. The pain still at the forefront of his mind, muddying every sense. He bent his head down to rest it on Hermione's forehead, his eyes closed and panting from the exertion of standing. He lowered his face further until their noses slotted in next to each other, Hermione's face turned upwards to meet his. Body heat burned like fire, tingling Harry's skin wherever it met Hermione's.

"Harry" she said in a high breathy voice. Not a question, she just needed to say his name. Their lips slowly descended upon each others and touched ever so lightly. Hermione's lips where so smooth, so gentle and so unafraid. Harry could feel her brave spirit radiating through that kiss. That life changing touch. He pressed his lips closer, yearning for more.

Harry clutched her face desperately in his hands, caressing his thumbs against her cheek. He pulled back slightly, releasing her lips. She was so beautiful, the darkness highlighting every curve of her face and casting her deep brown eyes in a shadowy, silver glow. For a moment the world was silent, for a moment all that mattered was her body pressed against his. For a moment everything was perfect.

And then that moment ended.

A miniscule shadow ran quickly from tree to tree in Harry's peripheral vision. As it ran through a break of light in the tree canopy, the rat was exposed. Pettegrew. What could they do? What could _he_ do? There was no way of capturing the coward, not in his condition. What about Hermione? How long had the little fiend been watching them. Had he seen? Had he been watching only moments earlier? Harry needed to protect her. She had done so much for him. He couldn't live with himself if something happened to her; not because of him.

The pain in his back flared up ten fold as he used his last remaining amount of strength to push her away. Hermione stumbled back, tripping over debris and roots. She flung an accusing stare at Harry and was about to open her mouth to speak when he interrupted her.

"Eugh"-he spat on the ground...

"I did it to protect her, at the time I didn't know if she had seen Pettegrew too. He never came out of the shadows never changed back to human. Too much of a coward to try anything without someone to protect him. I needed to make it convincing, she needed to believe I rejected her. If she believed, then so would Pettegrew and then she'd be safe" Harry finished he explanation with a gulp, swallowing his emotions.

Ron couldn't believe what he was hearing "Blimey Harry, why didn't you tell me?" he said, slightly hurt at his best friends distance.

Harry shrugged continued walking at their slow pace "If only I knew, the safer she'd be". The length of Harry's explanation had taken less the ten minutes and by then they had walked at least half way to the water tap, on the other side of the field. They had started walking again after continually being interrupted by wizards and witches hurrying about getting ready for the match.

"I understand why you did it mate, but your an idiot" Ron slapped Harry hard on the back of the head, as if trying to knock some sense into him. "You honestly think she'd be safer, _any_ of us would be safer, if you left us? Harry if it wasn't for you my sister would be dead, the basilisk might have killed Hermione and he-who-must-not-be-named might have gotten the philosophers stone in our _first _year"

"I had help-

-If you like it or not we _need _you Harry, and you need _us" _Ron finished with finality in his tone.


End file.
